The World Turned Upside Down
by hl-gray
Summary: “And in her eyes I saw my life I knew that she would be my wife And she would breathe the life back into me From every day until eternity Or until I’d be as dead as that body” Eternity seemed to have been a bit of a stretch for him, especially when nothing seems to be proving there’s eternity to look forward to.
1. Prologue

**Prologue**

Sam called.

It was three in the morning. I just got back from Seattle Grace. Meredith was already asleep, and I was once again in that place of contemplation whether I should sleep beside her or seek comfort from the couch.

Then, he told me what happened.

I felt my whole body grow cold. Just a few days ago, she was on Seattle grounds, urging me to set Bailey up with someone.

I went back outside, hailed a cab, and said, "SeaTac."

I looked down at my hands and saw them trembling. Not even that bothered me anymore.

 _Addison, what happened?_


	2. Chapter One

**Chapter One**

It comes and it goes.

Back in New York City, there are moments when she would just feel this incredibly hollow feeling in her stomach—something that tugs her heart down. There are lots of things wrong with that thought, medically speaking, but that's the best Addison Forbes Montgomery could come up with.

She wants to believe that foggy feeling didn't surface that night—that she was fully in control. At least then, she would have someone to blame: herself. Because if it was because of that instability, that resurfacing of insanity, she truly doesn't know what to do. She doesn't know if she could bear the thought of losing Derek Shepherd because of that stupid out-of-control moment; that their divorce was because of _something_ and not someone.

Right now, she hates that she could remember just bits of it. She hates that she couldn't remember half of what went on that night. She just knows the basics: Derek saw her and Mark doing it, then she pleaded for Derek not to walk out... which he did, anyway.

"Addie, I'm sorry."

Addison turned to look at Mark, who was lying on her bed with his bottom half covered with her sheets. She frowned, taking a moment to remember or understand why he was saying sorry. After a while, she remembered. Before she drifted off, Mark admitted that a Grey—of all people—once again, stole something from her. Not that Mark was hers. Nor was Derek.

Derek Shepherd never became hers, anyway.

"I-It's alright," Addison said quietly. She lay down beside Mark, slowly, then pulled the sheets to her chest. She hates everything that's happening, especially that nauseating feeling settling on her stomach.

How could she be that stupid once again?

"What happened—" She couldn't continue, her words tripping when she almost choked. Her heart was beating so fast, and all she could think of doing right now was to kick Mark out of the house and cover herself from a couple of Los Angeles suns.

"Addie?" Mark urged, making Addison snap out of her thoughts. It's been happening quite frequently these past few days and it started when the Captain appeared in her workplace.

"What happened that night?" Addison could barely bring the words out, shame flooding over her entire body. She had never admitted that to anyone. Admitting that she honestly couldn't remember anything about _that_ night embarrassed her. It makes her feel pathetic and more of a failure than she ever did in her entire life.

"What?" The horror that Addison detected in Mark's voice was enough to make her shrink back and fight the strong urge to just curl up and...

"I... don't remember." It was easier, compared to her other friends, to open up to Mark because Addison knows the man wouldn't judge her. Despite being an "asshole" because of being a ladies' man, Mark was the someone who Addison feels like she could open up to. This bothered her a lot, especially knowing what went down that night. Does being so easily comforted by Mark actually made her want to sleep with him?

"You...Oh, God. Addie... Addison, you don't remember?" Mark was whispering now. She knows it would come down to this once more—her hurting, bothering people. It was maybe one of her talents, to just ruin what was once working. It started when she was a child, and she ruined—as she knows now—Bizzy's only chance to freedom. Acting like her mother being a lesbian and being in a lesbian relationship was the worst thing possible was just normal... she thinks. She's the child, the daughter. Despite being cynical and dysfunctional, at least before, Addison was comforted by knowing her parents were once in love. At least that reality, she could hold on to. Now, even that was shattered. There was never that love she believes she and Derek once had, despite the Captain claiming Bizzy's the love of his life. Their relationship and her relationship with Derek makes her believe that there can never be love in the first place—that it's just a hoax, that nobody truly feels that strong to other people.

She just shook her head.

"You cheated," Mark started.

"I know that," Addison said bitterly. She knows that. She knows she cheated because she remembers pleading Derek to stay.

"Do you know what happened before that, Addie?" Addison caught the desperation in Mark's voice. "Please tell me you do, Addie, please." Addison sat up, frowning as she looked at Mark. She saw the pain etched in Mark's face, like something was stabbing him repeatedly.

"I..." Seeing the pain in Mark's face made Addison consider. "I remember." It pained her to say that because she knows that if she couldn't admit to Mark that she doesn't actually remember anything, she would never be able to admit that to _anyone_ at all.

"Don't lie." Mark was now looking at her. "You don't." Right after he said that, he got out of bed and dressed up. Addison's mind was reeling, she desperately wants to find solution to what was currently happening. She's shaking her head, refusing to believe that the comfort she and Mark was partly reveling on was now shattered—all because of her; all because she couldn't keep her mouth shut.

"Oh God, Addie. This changes everything. Why... why didn't you say anything?!" Mark was now shouting and Addison couldn't help but flinch. A shot of fear spiked her heart to beat faster by the minute. She knows admitting would change something, but she didn't anticipate someone would get hurt. She should have known better and kept everything to herself.

"It doesn't matter, alright, Mark? Let's just forget it and... and go to sleep," Addison pleaded desperately. If she knows one thing about Mark, it's that he sometimes couldn't control his anger.

"Forget? Do you have any idea how this affects me?! Addison, I basically _raped_ you!" Addison flinched, but she doesn't know whether it's because of Mark's elevated voice or because of that word—that word she fears of hearing.

"You didn't, Mark! You said I consented—I did! How was that—"

"Do you even hear yourself, Addison?! Can you even hear what was wrong with what you said?!" The indignation in Mark's voice makes Addison want to hide. Her eyes were darting subconsciously from side to side, her hands were gripping the sheets tightly. No, Mark didn't rape her because she knows Mark wouldn't do that.

"Please get out," Addison whispered, her voice trembling with fear. She desperately wants to do something, though she doesn't know what. All she knows is that she can't bear seeing Mark or someone, even, seeing her as she's so close to breaking down—to falling apart.

"Addison—"

"Get out, Mark, please... please..." Addison continued pleading, her voice becoming a whisper by the second. She was shaking her head so bad, knowing full well how pathetic she looked—trembling and naked.

"Addie, I'm sorry for shouting." Addison felt the bed dip, making her gasp. She pulled the sheets closer to her and she backed away from Mark. She looked at him, pleading him to stop, to back away, to get out of the house.

"Addie, I won't hurt you, alright? Come here, please?" Addison continued to tremble, her heart beating so fast with fear. She doesn't know what was about to happen, all she knows is that Mark has every right to hurt her, because she once again caused something to ruin his life... at the moment.

"Addie, what happened that night... before... before we went to bed..."


	3. Chapter Two

Trigger warning for this chapter: contains mentions of suicide attempt(s). Read at your own risk.

Either way, enjoy!

 **Chapter Two**

I was sickening.

That's what Addison kept on thinking as she lay down on her bed, body entirely covered with her blanket. She hadn't gone out for... she doesn't know how long. She doesn't remember the last food she ate. She knows it's been a while since she drank a glass of water. She just doesn't bother caring anymore.

She knows it's dangerous to wonder how the world would be if she's not in it anymore. She knows it's dangerous to constantly look for an out, to wonder how taking many pills would be like or would crushed pipe be better. She knows it's dangerous to have a strong fetish about the sharp edge of a knife or the other end of that scalpel.

Finding out the details of what happened before that tragic fall of her and Derek's wedding was supposed to be horrifying. It was suppose to scare the hell out of Addison. Yet, she found it enlightening, she found it fascinating that she was able to do that.

Mark told her he found her with a knife early afternoon. He was able to calm her (or so he thought). He lay her down on the bed in the Master's bedroom. She fell asleep. He couldn't leave her because he's afraid of a repeat of that afternoon. She woke up. She promised she wouldn't do that again because it scared her. He told her he would call Derek. She pleaded him not to. He couldn't betray his best friend, so he sent him a text instead. _Go home early, it's urgent_.

He thought that the message didn't betray Addison or Derek. He knew he didn't tell Derek anything and he knew that text wasn't enough to make him go home immediately. Nothing got through Derek anymore. He was surprised that Derek chose that time to listen to him.

Before he could logically make sense of anything, she opened up to him. She told him she was leaving Derek. She told him that she was tired. Then they started to reminisce those med school days, how he actually saw her first before Derek swooped in and swept her off her feet. The attraction was nostalgic for the both of them, making them have a trip down to memory lane.

Then Derek swooped in and she was dropped to her own feet.

The only thing that registered to Addison's mind with everything that Mark told her was how she got a knife pressed to her own wrists, though not enough force to cut her skin.

Now she remembers. She remembers what came before that. She remembers how the whole house was caving in on her, as if its size was eating her alive. How her thoughts went from changing all the curtains to a thicker one, and how those will make the house gloomier—darker. Then, she went to joking herself how it wouldn't matter, because she's the only one living in the brownstone now.

She's alone.

She's alone, and the only one who promised to love her was gone, taken by his success in his field, while she feels so worthless. She's so worthless because she can't help but compare herself to her mother, who managed to live a life, with a marriage flawed yet lasting with the Captain. She feels so worthless because she can't do anything to make her husband satisfied enough to stay longer hours at home. She was back to being that geek in high school, that one who disappeared in crowds, that one who possessed the power of invisibility.

She thought back to her thoughts when she was in high school, how she laughed while reading novels about how successful women always think of their success not being all of what's in their life. That there's family to mind, that relationships are what matters the most. That the people you love should come first. She once thought that all of those were bullshit.

Now, she sees those fictional women's happy endings, she sees how they overcame their struggles. She feels so devastated that she doesn't, she can't see herself fighting like them, fighting for what they believe was truly theirs. She can't see herself overcoming fears and struggles, she can't see herself having that happy ending.

Without Derek, it was impossible.

And with those self-deprecating thoughts, she went downhill fast.

She drank pills.

They didn't work fast enough, or maybe they weren't enough.

So she resorted to something familiar—something she knows the nooks and cranny of everything.

Just a cut at the right spot and she'd surely get the ending she wants.

And Mark Sloan happened.

Naomi Bennet went inside her ex-husband's house. When she saw him sitting on his couch with a wine bottle in front of him, she sighed, willing the tears of frustration to not fall.

"She..."

"No."

"Sam..."

"I know."

As much as they want to believe that Addison's alright, they know she isn't. Of course she isn't. Her parents just once again managed to ruin whatever peace she made with her life, with Mark Sloan adding in the process. She's not alright, but nothing points towards the direction of a successful and excellent doctor like Addison Forbes Montgomery not taking care of her health.

"Should we... go there?"

Right when she said that, a crashing sound resonated, obviously coming from the neighbouring house. Sam and Naomi's eyes met, both widening comically. They both rushed outside, Sam going to the back door, Naomi going to the front door. Were they not divorced, Naomi would have felt some sense of satisfaction, with how her and Sam worked together so perfectly.

Right when she was about to slam her whole body to the front door, it opened, revealing Sam with a tired look on his face.

"It was the cat," he said.

"Where's Addie?" Naomi asked, pushing Sam out of her way and immediately dashing up the stairs. "Addie?" Naomi called out, her heart going down her stomach. "Addie, are you here?"

"Did we even consider Addie not being here? Maybe she went—" What he was saying fell on deaf ears. Naomi continued to call Addison's name, as she went towards Addison's room. When she opened the door, there was no one in bed, but her eyes zeroed on the two empty pill bottles sitting on top of the unmade bed sheets.

"Addie?! Addison?!" Naomi screeched, fear dripping from her words. She looked around the room, searching for a body, probably knocked out or something.

"Nae! Naomi!" The urgency in Sam's voice scared the hell out of Naomi. She went out of Addison's room and ran towards the only open door—which was just by the stairs. When she entered—it was the bathroom—she gasped at what she saw. Sam was doing everything to cover Addison's bleeding wrists, her thighs just about the same state.

Naomi gasped Addison's name, her throat letting out a strangled cry. It comforted her just a bit to see that Addison was conscious, though barely. But it wasn't enough. She would still prefer seeing her best friend not covered up with her own blood, while pathetically sitting on the bathroom floor. Naomi didn't fail to notice another pill bottle empty by Addison's right, which was different from the other two considering the specks of blood that stained the inside of it.

It looked more like a homicide than...

The barely conscious woman she was looking at wasn't Addison Montgomery. It can't be. The Addison she knew, her best friend, was strong. She was a force to be reckoned with, someone who seems to take on everything in stride, with class. Someone who smiles even when she should be breaking down in pieces.

"Call 911!"


End file.
